


Impossible

by crowdedangels



Category: The Hour
Genre: F/M, Post-Season/Series Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 03:49:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13825863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowdedangels/pseuds/crowdedangels
Summary: "I should go with him," then with more authority than she felt: "I'm going with him."





	Impossible

**Author's Note:**

> Shame on everyone who put this show on my Tumblr dash but didn't clue me into the hellish levels of feels it would generate.

"Mm...Moneypenny..." he breathed her name again. A mantra. A lifeline.   
  
He saw shapes, movement, but none were her. Voices, rain, numbness.   
  
It took a few beats before it registered that she had taken his hand, was touching his face, her tears dripping on to his chin. "-Here, I'm here, Freddie. I'm here, oh God, Freddie..."  
  
"Moneypenny."  
  
Bel gave a watery smile, "Yes, James. I'm here. Moneypenny." She stroked his face, blood mixing with dirt beneath her fingernails, her heels having tripped her on the grass and making her scramble the rest of the way to him. She barely heard Lix and Mr Brown shouting orders out, covering him with a jacket.

She kissed his hand, "She did it, Freddie. Kiki. She did it and she's safe and that's because- because of you. Don't you dare leave me, Freddie, don't you dare-"   
  
Lix took hold of her shoulders and pulled her away, "No, I need-!"  
  
"Darling, let them work, let them work."   
  
Bel's eyes looked from her back to Freddie to find him being put onto a stretcher. "I should go with him," then with more authority than she felt, "I'm going with him."  
  
Lix was saying something else but all Bel could see was Freddie's twisted body, how little he looked, how he must be hurting but wasn't feeling it, what that could mean. "Oh God, I can't lose him."  
  
He was carried into the ambulance, Bel climbing in alongside him and taking hold of his hand again.   
  
The doors were shut and Randall wrapped his arms around Lix. "Our boy doesn't look good," she said, the sirens beginning as it turned onto the road.   
  
Randall squeezed her tighter, ushering her to his car.   
  
\--  
  
Bel was pacing when Lix found her. Her heels clicking against the floor as she looped, one arm wrapped around her stomach, the other hand at her forehead.   
  
There was blood on her dress and on her skin, her nylons marked in mud. Her hair had fallen from the chignon into wet curls around her pale face.   
  
"Bel..." She called, taking hold of her arms and shaking her a little to face them.   
  
"How is he?" Randall asked.   
  
"I don't- they haven't said-"  
  
Lix and he shared a silent look and he went off towards the nurses desk while she scrambled in her pocket for a cigarette. Bel's hands were shaking as she placed it between her fingers, sitting her down onto one of the chairs, "Here, darling. Deep breaths."  
  
She did as told, a white plume erupting from her mouth but only barely seeming to calm to her nerves. "I can't lose him, Lix."  
  
She sat next to her, "I know, darling, I know."  
  
It was a few hours before she was able to see him. The doctor came through to her - and the waiting room full of The Hour employees - to say he was in a bad way, had survived the surgery but-  
  
"Can I see him?" She wasnt paying attention to anything being said.  
  
The doctor motioned for the nurse to guide her through while he relayed the diagnosis to Randall and Hector.  
  
He looked so small. "You look like a mummy..." she whispered. She added with a watery smile, "Mummy-penny. You can laugh at that one later." She crossed to his bed, grasping on to the cold metal bedframe before replacing them onto her hips. "You... you big, giant bastard! You-you kiss me like that then run off and-and get yourself nearly bloody k-...! I hate you. Do you hear me?" She sat next to him, taking his hand his hers and pulling it to her cheek, her voice soft despite and belying her words. "I bloody hate you, Freddie Lyon."  
  
His face made no movement so she focussed on the rise and fall of his chest. Breath. Life. He was there, he was holding on. He better bloody had.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
